


all we need is a little time

by doubletan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bulimia, Depression, Healing, Idol AU, Idol Group AU, M/M, Recovery, Self Harm, University AU, aged up AU, band au, deals with anorexia, happy ending!, knee injury, more towards kpop group, oikawa is receiving residential treatment, pls note if these triggers you!, roommates au, seijou third years are an idol group haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:26:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubletan/pseuds/doubletan
Summary: Hajime wondered how much longer he can go on before he snaps. Completely.One step. Two.He braces himself once again. He realized it adapted into an instinctive defense. For someone who hadn't had the need to do so for the past twenty years of his life, it was surprisingly easy to fall into this habit as if it fitted his skin perfectly, like it was meant to be and always will be. And God knows if its healthy.At least he could take comfort, like a fall from the highest building saved by a life net, that it was definitely healthier in face of what was to come.Three.Four.Doorknob cold to the touch just like Hajime's blood. A twist. It opens. Reveals a boy in bed, setting sun splaying patterns all over and around him, skin pale even under the darkening sky.A breeze blows , frail but swayed the even frailer boy in the expanse of white sheets that threatened to dwarf him further.The boy turns, gone was the smile that appears whenever he sees Hajime, but at least Hajime was anchored by the remaining twinkle in his eyes or he fear he would crumble.The eyes compelled him forward.Iwa-chan,they say.





	all we need is a little time

**Author's Note:**

> i tried going for a very different style and remembered sacrificing a lot of time and sleep on this as i juggled school and this back in apr 2017 :/
> 
> spend a lot of time researching on anorexia, bulimia and treatments etc hopefully i didn't portray it too badly
> 
> although a very long ago fic, but still very dear to me. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it x

Hajime wondered how much longer he can go on before he snaps. Completely.

One step. 

Two. 

He braces himself once again. He realized it adapted into an instinctive defense. For someone who hadn't had the need to do so for the past twenty years of his life, it was surprisingly easy to fall into this habit as if it fitted his skin perfectly, like it was meant to be and always will be. And God knows if its healthy.

At least he could take comfort, like a fall from the highest building saved by a life net, that it was definitely healthier in face of what was to come. 

Three. 

_Four._

Doorknob cold to the touch just like Hajime's blood. A twist. It opens. Reveals a boy in bed, setting sun splaying patterns all over and around him, skin pale even under the darkening sky. 

A breeze blows , frail but swayed the even frailer boy in the expanse of white sheets that threatened to dwarf him further.

The boy turns, gone was the smile that appears whenever he sees Hajime, but at least Hajime was anchored by the remaining twinkle in his eyes or he fear he would crumble. 

The eyes compelled him forward. _Iwa-chan,_ they say.

_Blinding lights, pounding music, glistening sweat. Hajime huffed, jogging towards centre stage where Tooru, Matsukawa and Hanamaki awaited him. Hands linked side by side, they bowed. 'Thank you everyone for attending Blue Castle's concert!'_

_Tooru waved enthusiastically, blowing kisses to the audience. And because it's Oikawa Tooru, leader of the indisputably most popular idol group in Tokyo, screams echoed, light sticks frenzied in the dark churn of uncountable and indiscernible fans. And of Tooru, who beamed brighter than the flashing stage lights flashing patterns across his face._

__

__

_Hajime hid a smile behind his hand._

_There was no doubt that Tooru was born for the stage._

Hajime blinked, and the only response to his unwelcomed visit was the evening sun that silhouetted against Tooru's back, the orange outline of it small and defeated. And Hajime wondered if he imagined those eyes that met his earlier.

With a sigh, he plopped down in the armchair already propped beside Tooru's bed, courtesy of the sympathetic nurses used to Hajime's visits. Hajime thumbed aimlessly against the armrest, eyes roaming around the sparse expanse that had been Tooru's home for the past three months.

He wondered why he even bothered, everything was the same and always will be, same bed, same bedside drawer, same chair. It was as if time had stagnated in this fifteen square meters as the world progressed outside, and how often Hajime wished he could lie to himself that this would be his last time here.

What had been an elongated shadow of the occupant in bed became an unrecognizable black streak against the white sterile floor, and as Hajime watched it, it gradually grew thinner and thinner and-

Hajime stood up abruptly, rough wooden soles of the armchair protesting against the polished floor as urgent footsteps slide the curtains shut, enshrouding the room in darkness.

Tooru blinked, staring up at Hajime. It was Hajime's turn to be motionless. Coughing awkwardly into his hand, he turned away to switch the room light on. 

Warm yellow that made Tooru's cheeks fuller than reality. 

Much better. 

He eased back into the armchair. 

Silence settled upon them once again and Hajime's afraid to break it lest it shatters into pieces. He opts for clearing messages on his phone.

Bright, smiling faces. Four healthy individuals, they glare back at him from his wallpaper. _Right after their concert,_ Hajime reminded himself achingly. He looked up at the narrow figure in front of him, before caressing a nine months old digitized version of the same man with his thumb. He sighs, eyes landing on two specific individuals with shocking pink hair and uniquely thick eyebrows. 

He swallows, mouth already molded to the words carved out from the past few weeks. "They...ask if they can visit." Everyday. He wanted to add. That one word balanced dangerously on the tip of his tongue, only one word but it carries too much weight that Tooru could not bear. Not right now. 

So he swallows it down reluctantly. Hajime won't force Tooru to fulfill his whims because of desperation.

Tooru stilled, shifting slowly in the rumpled sheets to face Hajime, graceful and fragile like a ballerina in her enclosed music box. To be protected from the world in his velvet box under Hajime's keen eyes.

Hajime had delivered this message too often to count that Tooru understands the underlying question behind it all at once.

He cocked his head to the side, voice raspy from the lack of use. "What-" he clears his throat, "what did you tell them?" _This time?_

Seemingly nonchalant, but knowing Tooru since you were born meant knowing what he tries his hardest to conceal, the slight tremor in his fingers he hid in the sheets, lips curled up too high to pass off as natural, pupils blown too wide stemming from the incomprehensible depths of fear and insecurity that made up whatever composition Oikawa Tooru consisted of.

Hajime leaned forward on his knees, tries his best to smile, lips curled up too high to pass off as natural. "The same. Whenever you're ready."

 

 

 

 

 

The next time Hajime visits, it was to a slight inconsistency of a bump in the smooth expanse of sheets, and ended with frustration etched between the furrows of the nurse's brows at the end of the patient's bed.

Suzuki-san, Tooru's assigned nurse, was a strong women in her fifties who had never succumbed to the attempted charms of Oikawa Tooru, playboy extraordinaire. And that is the type of person Hajime admires.

She turns towards him, features relaxing into a strained smile. "Iwaizumi-san," she starts. Relief ebbed off her in waves and Hajime understands why she would feel this way, the way all the others nurses here do, no matter how tough Suzuki-san or anyone here was. 

Because the sole person that could handle the living bump under the sheets was Hajime and only him. 

But that's where they're wrong. It was and always had been Tooru placating to Hajime, appeasing him by giving in bit by bit to what Hajime pleads for, for what purpose Hajime may never know.

The bump under the sheets stiffens and no one but Hajime notices it. Click clack goes the heels of the nurse and the scuffing of Hajime's loafers against the steriled floor follows behind them as they fade towards the corridors. 

_Tooru takes a sip of his drink and Hajime immediately frowns. Vanilla latte with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles for twenty years of his life forgone for black coffee all of a sudden was a warning sign like a yellow beacon flashing on lightning alert against the gloomy sky._

_He feels the edge of the cafeteria table bite into his underarms as he leans heavily towards Tooru sitting on the opposite, hears himself ask when Tooru had ever drunk that, before being subsequently gifted with unnecessary knowledge that "black coffee boosts calorie burning by four percent Iwa-chan!"_

_Shaking his head, Hajime snatched the drink from his hands. He remembers saying Tooru has no more weight to lose. Tooru snatches it back, justifies it as maintaining his idol appearance._

_Rattle sense into his sturdy frame, throw the disgusting beverage far away from the mind's eye to never be thought of again, seek help, stop Tooru from his downward track of thoughts before he was too far away to be stopped._

_Innumerable possibilities that spanned the insurmountable galaxy, indefinite ways the outcome could have come to pass, the weight of them resting heavily on Hajime's shoulders._

_Yet Hajime had not felt it, and all he did was roll his eyes, "That isn't enough for lunch. You should eat."_

_"Iwa-chan, are you my mom?"_

_"What?"_

_"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I promise I will!"_

_"Stop being stupid, Crappy Oikawa." Hajime stood up. The chair creaked ominously behind him even with the chaotic rush of the lunch time crowd, of students deprived of nourishment needed to finish the day well. Including Oikawa Tooru._

_A warning sign that went unheeded and unheard by two oblivious individuals blinded by security and arrogance._

_"I'm going to get you some milk bread at least, Trashykawa."_

_"Don't shorten the insults!"_

_"Trashy Oikawa!"_

_"You don't have to rephrase it!"_

_And all Hajime had felt was relief, like blood rushing from his head to the tip of his toes, enshrouding him in tingling warmth, that the boy he had known years ago was still the same. That if Hajime was by his side, the boy would never go astray._

__

__

_How wrong he was._

She smoothed a hand over her thinning hair, and Hajime was sure it was caused by Oikawa Tooru induced stress and he pities her momentarily. She tells Hajime he been hiding food (the golden ticket back to Tokyo university, to Blue Castle, _to Hajime_ ), flushing it all down the toilet, just like Hajime's hopes for him to return. And Hajime surprisingly doesn't crumble on the spot, looks back to see Tooru staring straight back at him and the contact sent bolts of lightning zipping through him. 

Fear fear fear. Hajime can feel it in Tooru's eyes just like his own thundering heart beat. He can't lose more of Tooru or he loses himself. He forgets Suzuki-san and runs forward like his life depends on it, catches Tooru in an embrace just as his shirt go wet with tears, his or Tooru's no one will ever know, not even them. 

Hajime curls his body protectively around Tooru so that nothing could hurt him ever again. Tooru pulls the covers over them, wriggles, fits himself nicely into the crooks and crannies of Hajime's body. Enshrouded away in darkness and from the outside where every breath Hajime takes in is full of the essence of Tooru pressed so closely to him none of them knew where one starts and ends, he revels in the world of their own they have created, where nothing else mattered but them. If this wasn't enough proof to show that their hearts were already encapsulated by the other, Hajime doesn't know what is.

The nurse leaves. Hajime doesn't.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thud goes the ball hitting the unrelenting ground across the net, and of Hajime's heart threatening to escape his chest.

His feet stops at the edge of the court on their own volition. Hajime feels more alive than he ever felt in months.

_"Congratulations on your concert. The reviews were good." Coach Irihata grunted. "But I think you boys know this isn't the time to be complacent."_

_He announced gravely, "the annual Tokyo University cultural festival will be coming up soon, and the committee had organized an idol contest, and its compulsory for all idol groups training under Tokyo University to participate."_

_But before Tooru could ask the dying question all four of Blue Castle members needed to know, Coach Irihata answered with a curt nod. "Yes, Shiratorizawa will be participating."_

_Silence ensued, determination rising with every second Hajime could count and so palpable the air crackled with it. And with a nod of his head, Coach Irihata left the boys to their own devices._

_There was no need for any other words. Blue Castle will try their hardest to win their long-time competitor: Shiratorizawa, the most popular idol group in Japan._

_And for Tooru, he will try harder than anyone in the world thought fathomable._

The sun was too hot for it, burning flares of fire sparking across the rubber court, as if an accidental caress with the ground would set it aflame. Hajime's clothes were not suited for it, dressed in a suit and tie for one of numerous gossip magazine's interview which only aim seem to be prying out a definite date for Blue Castle's return from hiatus, unrelenting even when so many others had failed in the span of the months Tooru was hidden safely in his small enclosure of security away from prying eyes, both in and out. 

Hajime wasn't prepared for what was in front of his eyes, for time had worn him down and he had came to terms with a bedridden him wrecked with a sickness that stemmed from his own mind.

But when he side eyes Hajime, standing in all his glory, dazzling under the noonday sun and ready for a fight. When he bounces the familiar green, red and white swirl of a ball against the ground, the treasured toy from their childhoods that had blossomed the connection between them to whatever it had became today. When Tooru tilts his head to the other side of the court, _Iwa-chan, are you just going to stand there?_

Hajime can't resist. 

He never could. Never against Tooru.

_Hajime should have predicted this. Late nights in the studio, food rejected in place for more practice, to sing better, to dance better, to do possibly everything better._

_Face pale, eyes fluttering, body swaying. The song reaches a crescendo. Tooru runs shakily. A back flip badly executed. A crack. He lands on his right knee when it should have been feet. His body follows._

_Hajime's mind went blank._

Tooru bounces the ball against the ground, and as he starts into a jump serve Hajime finds himself tensing his arms for a hard blow of the ball-

And the same scene repeats itself, as Tooru runs shakily forward and warning bells rang in Hajime's head that something was wrong-

A serve badly executed. A crack. The ball flies off the court, while Tooru falls on his right knee.

Hajime runs faster like he never done across the court, dropping to his knees besides Tooru and scooping him up into an upright position, pushing the sweaty strands of curly hair from Tooru's face.

White as a sheet with a sheen of sweat across his forehead, a whimper escapes Tooru, eyes focused on his knee. Hajime coos him because God knows both of them needs it or Hajime was going to go mad with panic."It's going to be okay, Tooru. Ju-Just hang on." 

Hajime unravels his hands from Tooru reluctantly. "I'm going to find the nurses.You just wait here an-" 

Tooru cowers in on himself, a tiny ball emasculated in pain. He looked so small and vulnerable but that wasn't what stopped Hajime in his tracks. 

Tooru had whispered, loud and harsh against the silent court.

_"Why?"_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was night and it was day and it was night. And Hajime was there throughout, desperate to enter the white room just five steps away from him. He was Hajime's anchor in the turbulent waves of emotions that threatened to drown him alive, even if it was Tooru that had caused them.

The door opens. _Finally._

Hajime got up from the benches he had been sitting on for so long a time he lost track. Time seem to meld together here with its white walls and white floors and white sheets and white faces. And before Hajime ever realized, he had indulged in it like a tiny consolation price of escape from the pressing reality he came from.

 _He came from._ He finds himself turning over those words like sharp stones cutting into the palms of his hands as it cuts his heart. Did he think he belonged out of here, in Tokyo, in Tokyo university where time sped on while Tooru......belonged here?

Hajime rejected the thought as quickly as he thought it, rejected it vehemently, corrected his words immediately, securing it to his mind's eye desperately. So he will never, ever, ever think that way again that makes Hajime recoil from his own self.

 _We_ came from.

We.

Hajime snapped back to the reality in front of him. Reality, tangible and real, but still unbelievably implausible to Hajime. He wondered how the Hajime months ago would react if he told him that majority of his time would be spent at a residential treatment center instead of the stage. 

That Tooru of all people, the one that Hajime was certain would shine brighter than anyone, for Hajime had poured in more than his fair share of love, would be the first one to burn out. 

Hajime thinks he would laugh at the preposterousness of it all. Because even now he would do the same.

Sazkuki-san exited and nods in Hajime's direction, _you can see him now._

He nods back gratefully, _thank you._

He enters.

Moonlight casts its silvery cobwebs upon the whiteness entity of the ward, ethereal like a fairy tale but cruelly cold like reality. Hajime has to remind himself that this is reality, for Tooru, for him. For Blue Castle.

Tooru all but blends in. He lies on pristine white sheets, and above him, the garishly white painted walls. Eyes shut too tight, shoulders bunched up too high, Hajime sighs into the white silence, drags a hand down his face as if he isn't exhausted enough.

"Lets talk." He puts it out primly, falls back into the comfy sofa, his back cracking happily in complain against the long suffering hours on plastic chairs earlier. Tooru doesn't stir. 

Hajime sighs once again. "Oikawa, I've been here for the past two days without rest, and I be damned if you think you can escape just like that."

Another sigh, but this time coming from the patient himself, his brown eyes opened to narrow in on the darkness before focusing on Hajime. _You caught me Iwa-chan, you always do._

But all Hajime could do was stare past the brown cowlick of hair to the white walls behind him because he couldn't bear to face Tooru, couldn't bear to put the truth out in the open where it would materialize into concrete facts in the cold night air, couldn't bear for it to be encapsulated in this silent white room to be recalled every moment both of them were in it.

Because he didn't catch Tooru, like he always did.

_"Stupid Oikawa, stupid idiot, you're such a dum-"_

_"Iwa-chan! That's enough!" Tooru laughed._

_"Do you know how worried I was? You were so damn lucky it wasn't serious. I swear to god Oikawa, you better not overwork yourself again or I'm sure I'll-" Tooru grasped his hand, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles and traversing over its hills and valleys. Hajime feels himself relax against his will._

_"I know I know. I won't anymore okay? I promise." The languid brush of his touch compels Hajime to sit beside Tooru on the hospital bed made for one, and as it shuddered under his weight it elicited another laugh from the patient and that "Iwa-chan, you're getting too heavy!"_

_Hajime brushed a hand over the knee, bandaged in so many layers that Hajime wondered if Tooru's knee had actually swelled to twice it size._

_"Does it hurt?" Hajime whispered._

_Tooru hitched in his breath, so inconspicuously Hajime wouldn't have known was it not for the slight push of air across his cheek. "A little. But it's tolerable."_

_And then Tooru blessed him with a brilliant smile, more brilliant than the white walls of the ward or anything else Hajime can even conjure up in his imagination. The air crackles pleasantly with whatever emotion now rising out of Tooru, and Hajime smiles. "Iwa-chan, let's beat Ushiwaka."_

Hajime shifted in his chair, stretched his legs out as he marveled the distance between them and the bed. He starts, "The nurse said you weren't fit for physical activities yet." 

His reply came in the form of a blink, blanket trailing down the narrow lines of Tooru's shoulders as he shuffled to lean against the wall, right knee rigid in its cast. He stared at Hajime. _Stop beating around the bush Iwa-chan._

And so, Hajime cleared his throat. No use stalling the inevitable. "Why can't you just listen to the nurses? You _promised_ to take care of yourself."

The raspy sensation of his voice roughed against the unyielding impassiveness of Tooru's expression. Hajime's turbulent emotions chipped the flint of it slightly in the form of a frown that smooths itself back into its original state halfway before the points of Tooru's brows met. 

Only when it was out of Hajime's mouth did he realize it sounded like a desperate plea. Only when it was out of his mouth did he realize Tooru hadn't kept it after all. Only when it was out of his mouth did he realize that he shouldn't be surprised by what Tooru had done. But he was, because Hajime always had utter faith in Tooru. That he would turn out alright in the end. Even with the trying circumstances. 

Hajime wondered if that would be his downfall someday.

Today was a day for revelations of goals unfulfilled and promises un-kept.

Tooru's face remained its cool indifference obstinately.

He turned to stare at the full moon, the resemblance between the both of them were uncanny. Garishly pale white, people look up to marvel at their beauty, enamored by their incandescent luminosity. Tooru was the moon of Hajime's dark sky, rules the sea like he rules Hajime's sea of thoughts.

Like a moth to a flame, Hajime had been in the flame for so long a time he lost track. He wonders how long it would take for him to burn into a crisp before leaving nothing behind. 

The Adam's apple in Tooru's throat bobbed hesitantly, as he chose his words carefully, "I wanted to see...if I could."

"Could what?"

A pause stretched out too long it became silence. 

"Oikawa."

Chin jutted out, eyes wide, it was the last expression Hajime sees before Tooru lies down, his back facing Hajime. A blockade against Hajime's attempts to privy into his thoughts.

"I'm tired." _Go home Iwaizumi._

_"Oikawa."_

Silence.

One step. Two three four, a firm hand against that thin shoulder and it pushes back easily to reveal silent tears reflecting in the moonlight.

Hajime breathes. _"Tooru."_

Hajime doesn't remember what happened next before that face was crying tears against his shoulder. 

"I hate you I hate you I hate you," came the repeated chants with fists against Hajime's chest, soft with no strength behind them and Hajime took them in his stride effortlessly. Yet Tooru still doesn't push him away. 

Hajime waits.

"I-I just wanted to see if I could still play volleyball, like in the past. I just want to feel normal again. Is it," Tooru sucks a deep breath in shakily, "is it so hard?"

Hajime didn't dare answer, if he did it would break the brutal chain of honesty that would never display itself ever again.

The voice drops down to a feverish murmur and the walls crowd in to listen."I'm such a fuck up, I can't do anything right." Tooru hammered another fist against his chest. Although the vibration was weak, it rattles through Hajime's entire frame. 

_Excitement thrums under their skin, the lights, the sounds from the audience, the sturdy platform that oversees everything and beyond, including the disapproving frown from that damned Ushiwaka in the front row. Tooru smiles sweetly at him in retaliation._

_He grabs Hajime, pulls him towards Tooru as he spills a feverish murmur against Hajime's ear. "We're gonna do this right," he sucks in a deep breath steadily, "and win."_

"Do you actually think I can just skip my way back into Blue Castle like nothing was wrong when I'm like _this?"_ Tooru threw his head back under the moonlight, the graceful column of his neck marred by a necklace of red faint from passing time. A bitter laugh rang in the silence, not fully out before it was choked down by sobs. 

"All I do is make things worse for you Hanamaki Matsukawa Coach Irihata Suzuki-san the school the nurses. Everyone." 

Eyes lifted up to implore as if by willpower alone he could will the answer out of Hajime. The room shudders under the impending weight of the big question.

"So why Iwa-chan, _why_ are you still here?"

"Because..." _I love you Tooru. Isn't that enough? Because I'll never give up on you. Because I know you're stronger than anyone I ever met. Because I know you just need a little more time to get back on your feet._

Hajime doesn't say any of it. He didn't need to. They communicate more through their actions than words after all.

_They lose._

_Hajime watches Shiratorizawa claim the first place Tooru rightly deserves._

"I'll be wherever you want me to be Tooru." He draws the frail boy tight in his arms, he was never ever going to lose him again.

"What makes you think I want you here?" Tooru rasped out, a feeble half attempt even as his fingers curled tightly into Hajime's shirt.

Hajime clenched Tooru's thin patient gown tight in his fists,"Because I need you as much as you need me."

 

 

 

 

 

_In a total breach of etiquette, Hanamaki frowned at Hajime when he opened the apartment door. Hajime frowned back. "Is that how you greet the owner of someone's house you're entering?" Hajime asked._

_Hanamaki didn't reply. Instead, he swept his eyes once over of what he could see of the apartment, or rather, in search of a certain someone with Hajime standing in front of him......not a difficult feat with Hanamaki almost five centimeter taller. So often had this happened that when Hanamaki stared at him pointedly, Hajime could hear the question in it._

_Hajime sighed, "dance studio."_

_"Of course." Hanamaki frowned further, implication stronger enforced with Matsukawa next to him, his uniquely thick brows also caught in a frown after hearing Hajime's answer._

_There was nothing Hajime could do about Tooru's absence, so all he could do was make way for the two guests to toss the pizza box on the kitchen table they had picked up for their weekly dinners that was almost tradition ._

_But tonight, it did not go the same way that it had always gone. With the four of them together, it usually started with Tooru and Hanamaki squabbling over what movie to watch, Hajime getting drinks from the fridge, and Matsukawa using the opportunity to start eating first._

_But recently, it was of Tooru noticeably absent, with the three knowing dinners will never be the same again without him._

_It would never be the same without the four of them together._

_But tonight, no more was it the three of them silently tolerating the continuous lack of Oikawa Tooru's presence. Hanamaki and Matsukawa leaned against the kitchen counter, a silent conversation playing out in their eyes._

_"What?" Hajime said._

_Matsukawa started, "Don't you think...Oikawa is really off these days?"_

_Saying Oikawa was 'off' was putting it nicely. Hajime dragged a hand down his face, wanting to end this conversation as soon as possible before it leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth._

_He recalled his recent outburst with Tooru, still fresh in his memories. "It's not like I haven't tried. I-I think he just needs some time to get over what happened at the festival."_

_Distantly, he thought about what Coach Irihata had asked him only a few days back, and his answer had been along the same lines. Only that Coach Irihata had believed his words._

_"Some time," Hanamaki said."Iwaizumi, it's been three months."_

_Hajime didn't know how to respond to that, and Hanamki took the opportunity to press forward. "When was the last time he wasn't at the studio? When was the last time he ate dinner together with us? When was the last time he even ate for god sake. Iwaizumi, even you know he's not doing well."_

_It was like a backhanded blow to Hajime's face. It stung. The pressure of the three individuals pinning their hopes on him weighed heavily on his shoulders._

_Matsukawa nodded in total support of Hanamaki's words. "We would've talked to him too, but all of us know he only listens to you."_

Nothing was more familiar to Hajime than the sturdy thud of feet against its polished wooden floor, surrounded by the reflection of himself imprinted on panels of mirrors, the air-conditioned surroundings a cool kiss against the sweat of exertion. 

But then again, nothing was more familiar than Tooru by his side.

A flurry of complicated kicks and turns, the trainer and the rest of the patients stood agape with unconcealed marvel at the dancing prodigy in front of them. Face flushed in exertion and pride, he takes in all of the attention directed at him and gifts them with a warm smile. 

Hajime does the same behind the back of his hand.

The patients swarmed up to Tooru, on their way to full recovery just like him, and Hajime soon loses him from his narrow periphery of the door's window, on the other side of the dance studio where the sea of similar individuals had camouflaged Tooru.

_Hanamaki and Matsukawa had left right after._

_Hajime stares at the unopened pizza box in front of him. He sighs, swipes it up, including his wallet and keys. Tokyo University wasn't a far walk from their apartment after all._

_A lone dancer swayed in the breeze of the tempo, sweat pouring down in a drizzle, feet thundering so hard against the wooden floor like an earthquake that Hajime could feel the vibrations so strongly even from the outside._

_As Hajime entered, Tooru met Hajime's eyes in the mirrors that lined the entire room. A lightning bolt of eye contact, where a storm billows in Tooru's eyes before it returned to the mirror in front of him._

_"Hello." Hajime hears himself say. He lifts the pizza box in his hand, the object in hand that gave him a reason to visit Tooru. Pathetic, did they need a reason to see each other? "Dinner?"_

_Tooru continued dancing without sparing another glance at Hajime or the box, "I'm practicing, Iwa-chan."_

_"You don't eat anymore you mean."_

_Tooru stills. Hajime realized the song was the new one Blue Castle had just recorded at the music studio in preparation for their upcoming concert. The air solidified into tension, as it greedily awaited a fight to unfold, or had it ever ended in the first place?_

_Tooru sighs theatrically, dissipating it just as quickly as it appeared. He wanted to spend the time dancing, not fighting; Hajime wanted to see Tooru eat well, not fighting. "I do eat. And we've been on this before Iwa-chan, let's not bring it up again."_

_"Which is far from what one would call healthy. And you also haven't been spending time with the three of us anymore." Hajime spurts out blatantly before Tooru could start dancing once again or he would lose Tooru in his own obsession with perfection._

_Tooru swung towards the music player to stop the music before swinging that attention back on Hajime. He spoke, infuriatingly cool in the sudden silence,"Did Hanamaki and Matsukawa put you up to this?"_

_Hajime was about to lie before he thought better of it, because Tooru would know. He always does. That's what happens when you know Tooru like an extension of yourself. Tooru had acquired the same capability, or even more so than Hajime himself would ever know._

_"They're just worried about you," Hajime said._

_Tooru stared at him. Hajime could see the gears turning in his head, overturning every small pebble at what this meant, at what his friends meant when they ask Hajime to do this, at what his friends thought about him now-._

_Hajime quickly added on before his thoughts alluded him, "It wasn't anything bad Oikawa. Trust me."_

_Tooru smiles, razor sharp. Trust Tooru to hold on to vindictive anger from their fight days ago. "You have passed on their message, and it was duly noted." You can leave now, his eyes says._

_Hajime stood his ground, he was not going to give in anymore. He lifts the pizza box once again, "so if their message had gotten through to you, let's eat."_

_Tooru turns back towards the music player, "I already told you I'm practicing. If you want, you can leave a portion for me. I'll eat it later."_

_Hajime frowned, Tooru's recent sidestepping was starting to get on his nerves._

_"Did you think I would actually believe that?"_

_Tooru's reply was instant."Of course not. Iwa-chan always know me best right?" If Hajime hadn't known better, it would have sounded like a compliment._

_"Then let's eat," Hajime repeats._

_He scoffed sardonically,"Iwa-chan, are you my mom?"_

_Taking a deep breath, Hajime calms the rising tide of anger in him and ignores the jab. He had to be the reasonable one to talk sense in Tooru. It wasn't anything new. Tooru had always surpassed the limits of his patience. "I just want you to be healthy Oikawa." He adds on, "Like last time."_

_Hajime's words had sounded so preposterous to him that he laughs, "But I'm better now! Isn't it obvious Iwa-chan?"_

_Hajime couldn't help but let out a sardonic laugh in retaliation. "Better?! Oikawa have you seen yourself in the mirror?" What a statement that was, when they were utterly surrounded and dwarfed by the mirrors all around the them, Tokyo University not sparing any expenses on their biggest idol group yet._

_It was Tooru entirely surrounded by warning signs all around him but he hadn't seem to notice a single one of them._

_Tooru doesn't say anything, Hajime hopes it's because he doesn't know what to say. Taking advantage of the lull in conversation, Hajime drops the box without a care and stepped forward to grab Tooru's wrist._

_Hajime's hand covered the entire circumference of it, his thumb still able to circle around the second joint of his fingers._

_He brought it up to Tooru's face. Hajime enunciated each word slowly, eyes never wavering from Tooru's face. "See this and tell me you're fine."_

_Tooru snarls, "Why does it concern you?" as he struggled to be rid of Hajime's grip, or rather attempts to do so. But Hajime didn't budge a single inch, he didn't even need to try, Tooru's strength so painfully absent it made Hajime's heart ache._

_He whispered, "Because I care for you Tooru, and I don't want to see you like this anymore."_

_Tooru's eyes widened in surprise, and for the first time in months, Hajime could finally see Tooru, see him stripped of his uncountable layers of lies and defenses with a vulnerability that wasn't there before. Before Tooru blinks, expression shuttering shut. This time, Hajime let Tooru break himself free from the grip and Tooru knew and hated it._

_He snapped at Hajime, "If I wanted someone to nag at me I already have a mom."_

_"If you could take care of your own self, I wouldn't have to!"_

_"I want to win. Don't you want Blue Castle to win?" Tooru challenges him, Hajime knew answering that would mean condoning Tooru's unhealthy habits in the name of winning, because anyone would know what his answer would be._

_He avoids the trap. "There's a huge difference between wanting to win and wanting to win to the point of killing yourself."_

_Toru laughs mirthlessly, as if what Hajime said was ridiculous when the only thing ridiculous was Tooru and he didn't even realize it."Do I look like I'm on the verge of...what did you saying again? Dying?"_

_"Soon if you don't stop this! C'mon Tooru, just listen to us. To me. Is that so hard?"_

_Tooru's reply came in the slam of the door._

Hajime enters the room quietly. The nurses stand on watch behind the dancing patients, and even when they see Tooru's skills and see Hajime enters and they most probably read the news and putting two and two together knew who they are, they don't say anything, even to them or the tabloids, and for that Hajime was extremely grateful.

He spots Suzuki-san among them.

"Ah, Iwaizumi-san!" she greets him. "Came to see Oikawa-kun?" He nods, the smile never leaving his face.

"It's amazing how he injured his leg just weeks ago and now he can take part in physical activities." She looks at Tooru, and Hajime follows her eyes, and he realized that Tooru was looking at him, that he had been watching Hajime ever since he came in. 

She laughs, "It's a total miracle. I've never seen a patient improved this fast before!" A miracle, and Hajime guess that's the only word that can describe him.

Tooru waved radiantly, smiled brilliantly, burned so brightly that the warmth of Tooru showered over Hajime from head to toe. Like the sun. So taken aback was Hajime that he forgot to reply Suzuki-san.

Hajime made his way forward, the moth irrevocably attracted to the flame, Tooru pulling Hajime in deeper and deeper into the depths, but Hajime was sure to follow him anywhere he goes without a doubt.

He stops in front of Tooru. He knows he looks ridiculous right now, he's smiling so hard his cheeks hurt and he's squinting. But it didn't matter. What mattered was Tooru. 

He heard himself ask, "do you have room for another dancer?"

 

 

 

 

 

_An intervention, Hanamaki and Matsukawa had said. Both of them didn't ask Hajime if he would be joining them, they didn't need to. None of them, especially Hajime, wants to leave Tooru's wellbeing to luck._

_But even so, they knew it was never so simple with Oikawa Tooru, the embodiment of intricate complications. Threading a fine line where one possible falter in step would push Tooru to the edge of his tolerance, he would be forever lost from their grasp. It was simply Tooru, all of him, all of him that was at stake, than just a mere 'intervention'._

_The jangle of keys announced Tooru's return from the only place he would have been at, practicing everyday from afternoon till the dead of the night. Hajime glances at the other two who had came over earlier just for this. Nervousness strung between the three of them like a fully taut wire on the verge of snapping._

_With a resolute nod from Hajime, the three of them stood up to form a strategic line where they blocked access to all other parts of the apartment except the living room._

_Tooru raised his brows in surprise, taking the three of them in and mustered a smile. "Is this a welcome home party? Because as much as I appreciate it," he moved towards the direction of the bedrooms, "Oikawa-san got to-"_

_Hajime blocked him, and took the first step towards Tooru. "We need to talk. Let's go to the living room."_

_Tooru's eyes narrowed. In a single blink, Tooru calculated his chances of convincing the three of them out of this ploy he believes was against him and forcing his way past them. Before he turned, walking towards the living room. Apparently not high enough._

_The three of them followed behind and stood in a line in front of him._

_Tooru stared at Hanamaki and Matsukawa, diligently focused on ignoring Hajime. "is this about what both of you ask Iwaizumi to talk to me about few days ago?" He feigned innocence, but none of them were taking the bait._

_Hajime had to remind himself consciously not to react to Tooru's intentional use of his surname instead of the nickname bestowed upon Hajime for years gone by. Hajime tried his best to school his expression into a sheet of indifference even as he found himself bleeding from the stab to his heart._

_A few days ago.Only a few days since their argument, but Tooru was undeniably worse of wear. Every day Tooru became more and more of a shell of the boy Hajime loved._

_The days leading up to this after their fight had been a torture for Hajime and Tooru alike, not that both of them would ever admit it. Ignoring each other at school when they were classmates, during practice when they were teammates, and at the apartment when they were roommates was an agonizing torture. For every distance between them burned like fire in Hajime's veins as he restrained himself once and again from crossing the vast chasm so it reduced to nothing if it meant reaching Tooru._

_Hajime realized all four of them had folded their arms instinctively, a shield of defense against the hostility that had started to surface unwelcomingly, yet unable to rid themselves free of it. Three against one, the odds against him, but Tooru could stand his ground against them stemming solely from his obstinacy than his physicality._

_"Yes" Matsukawa said slowly."Oikawa, why don't you hang out with us anymore?" He skirts the real issue, most probably thinking that an easy start leading into it would be better than plunging in full force._

_"You know why, I'd been practicing."_

_"You practiced a lot in the past too, but you always had time for us, can't you do the same now?" The plead was evident enough to all of them here. An attempt by Matsukawa to settle the glaring issue swiftly with an extended hand which if Tooru took it, it would have brought the past few months of brewing tension to an ultimate closure. No one would need to bring this up again, and everything will be alright-_

_"But that was before we lost to Shiratorizawa Mattsun." Tooru smiled, all daggers. He had slapped the hand away. Matsukawa visibly flinched._

_Hanamaki stepped in."Oikawa, we're just concerned. This isn't the right way to cope or beat Shiratorizawa."_

_"Then there is no need for concern."_

_Hanamaki shook his head, exasperated. "C'mon man, let's not make this difficult."_

_"Makki, Mattsun, " Oikawa laughed, trying to dissipate the rising tension, but the cracked inflection of his laugh only serve to intensify it. "I'm really fine. Thanks, I really appreciate it, but there's nothing to worry about."_

_Hanamaki swallowed thickly, they couldn't skirt around the edge of the problem anymore if Tooru did not want to cooperate. "Oikawa, do you feel faint or tired more usual than always? But yet you can't sleep at night?"_

_The eyebags under his eyes were more prominent under the dim glow of the ceiling light. "No," he replied._

_Hanamaki ignored it, continuing, "have you read the university articles? On you? Everyone's been... Suspecting what you're sick with."_

_"But I'm not sick." Tooru says it like its logical,as if it was something that didn't require thinking about. Like a fact, something that's known and proven true like how Tooru's symptoms pointed towards the truth of his well-being. But it was one that had flew past Tooru's head, entirely incomprehensible to him._

_Matsukawa and Hanamaki looked at Hajime._

_"Tooru," Hajime had to tread carefully, "why not let a doctor decide this? A professional would know better than any of us-"_

_"So Iwa-chan thinks I need help." He lifts his chin defiantly, pointedly, his eyes narrowing at Hajime as they evicted Hajime out of wherever meager place he once had a place in in Tooru's heart. "Professional help."_

_His mouth went dry. "Tooru-"_

_"Do Hanamaki and Matsukawa think so too?" Tooru swung his gaze to both of them, hoping to have their support against Hajime's word but their hesitation spoke volumes. More than whatever they had planned to say._

_"I see how it is," Tooru says plainly. Chin jutted out, eyes wide, Hajime knows this is the face he makes when he's about to cry but doesn't let himself to. A last glance at Hajime and he was gone, door slammed open as Tooru ran into the night._

_It only took a moment to register the open door, before Hajime rushed forward, eyes only on the open door and getting to Tooru, Tooru, Tooru, the name echoing in his head like a feverish prayer that plays like a broken record in tandem to his rapid heart beats, pulling him towards where ever Tooru is like a compass in need of direction._

_Before he was blocked by Matsukawa. Hajime looked up questioningly only to see him shake his head, "you got to give him some time."_

_Nodding numbly, Hajime forced himself to stay still, even when his mind and being screamed at him that this was all wrong, that the night was still young and this was not how it was supposed to go because he was never to lose Tooru._

_Hajime fell bonelessly onto the couch, elbows on his knees and hands over his ears as he forced the senses in his head to quieten. Maybe Matsukawa was right, he rocked himself back and forth._

_Because Tooru will always come out fine, he was the best Hajime had ever know after all, he reasoned. Even if his entire being tells him everything would not be the same again._

"Shit shit shit," Hanamaki smoothed down his hair in the murky glass of the automatic doors even if it only provided the reflection of an indecipherable pink blob. And in the next moment, those very same doors opened as a visitor entered, having to move aside for the pink haired man who stood right smack in the doorway. Hanamaki didn't notice. Instead he asked, "is my hair alright?"

Sighing, Matsukawa's pulled Hanamaki away to the side before he became a public nuisance. "Why does it matter? Your hair always looked shitty."

Hanamaki jutted him hard, but Matsukawa only chuckled nervously in response. Matsukawa turned to Hajime, eyes darting around the reception area to take it all in. "It's a nice place. Very nice. Nice chairs, nice cushions, nice floors..."

Hajime felt his lips curled up into a smile even as he tried not to laugh, "it is."

He walked towards the counter, registering the three of them as visitors for Oikawa Tooru. It was only done for procedure sake, all the nurses and staff had known him by now.

Hanamaki fingered the pass Hajime had given to him, eyes searching for yet another confirmation from Hajime. "Oikawa really asked us to come right?"

Hajime had lost track of the number of times he had asked the same question. "Yeah," he replies once again, because Hajime would never do anything against Tooru's wishes. Hanamaki relaxed visibly, draping the string of the pass over his neck.

Walking along the corridors, Hajime pointed the places out to Hanamaki and Matsukawa who took it all in. There was the nurses' offices, the volleyball court, the dance studio...

"By the way Iwaizumi," Hanamaki licked his lips, "I brought him milk bread. I wasn't thinking but I mean its his favorite right? I thought it would be a nice gift. But will he...." _eat them?_ The question did not go unheard. 

Hajime marched onward resolutely towards their destination, taking the question in his stride like a soldier charging forward on the battlefield entirely undaunted by the bullets flying towards him. 

He swallowed thickly, "only one way to find out."

_Hajime wondered how things would have turned out if only he had ran after Tooru._

_Because Tooru had came back in the early dawn to pack his things to move in with an acquaintance, with Hajime almost unable to register what Tooru was doing from shock and lack of sleep where he failed to chase after Tooru._

_And so, Hajime never sees him again besides classes and practice. Hajime wasn't surprised. Because even with Tooru's grudge, excelling in his studies and idol career was more important than anything else._

_Intentional ignorance had escalated to blatant avoidance, and the people suffering at the brunt of Tooru's misplaced anger had increased from one to three. Communication with him was kept to a minimum, and only when needed._

_Hajime remembered their plan at that time. After the concert, Hanamaki will slip a sleeping drug into Tooru's drink, Hajime and Matsukawa will carry Tooru, and the three of them will bring him on a cab to the hospital for a check up, albeit forcefully._

_Simple, and high chances of success. Hajime remembers the satisfaction of coming out with such a plan._

_Only one week till the concert is over.What could possibly happen in that one week to Tooru?_

_Later on did Hajime realized he had been on wrong on many accounts._

_And as the concert started in full swing, Tooru was fine, if the definition of fine extends to no outward signs of nauseousness or dizziness because of Tooru's eating habits, or lack thereof. But it did not extend to his pale complexion, glazed eyes and cold sweat._

_Tooru patted them on the back, smiled at them, fist bumped them like he always done. Like nothing had happened between them. Like the leader he is of Blue Castle. All for the show. But the eyes, the eyes were the windows to Tooru's soul, and they remained distant and vacant from the world._

_The usual but unique camaraderie of Blue Castle was undeniably a major factor that led to their popularity and Tooru obviously knew not to spark unnecessary gossip and assumptions that will affect their popularity ratings. Similarly, the three of them had tried their best to reciprocate.  
Nobody would have noticed the new rift in Blue Castle with Tooru's superb acting, but even if they did, it would have all been swept up by the roars of the crowd._

_And after a grueling three hours of dance and song, it had ended. Waves of relief ebbed out of Hajime so strongly he was sure everyone in the amphitheatre could sense it. Finally, finally it had ended, finally their plan could be executed. Finally, Tooru was going to be fine once again._

_Right before Hajime sees him fall, the spotlights following to focus on him, a bright white spot where he lay unmoving and motionless in the middle, always in the centre of attention. And Hajime's mind went blank._

And then he halted, standing in front of a white door, similar to the row of white doors it was stuck in the middle of with another row of the same white doors on its opposite side. Utilitarian and similar, the only way to identify which was Tooru's was through his name and number slotted in a plastic sheet next to it.

Hajime let out an unsteady breath. It was ridiculous to be nervous. He wondered if Tooru felt the same right now. 

He was conscious of Hanamaki and Matsukawa standing behind him, watching his every breath. He weathered through his panic and knocked on the door with a shaky hand, "Oikawa, we're here."

No reply.

He knocked again. "Oikawa?"

Silence.

"Should...should we come back another time?" Hanamaki suggested. Hajime shook his head firmly, "No."

"Oikawa, we're coming in." 

They enter.  
Warm sunlight trickled from the open window, warmed the room from a withering white to a mellow yellow, warmth seeping into their hearts upon the sight of the occupant in the room. The curtains were pushed to the sides, lightly swaying in the breeze. 

The entire room fell to a impassioned hush, the only sound was the even breathing of a person deep in his slumber. Tooru had apparently slept through Hajime's knocks on the door.

Tiptoeing forward gingerly, both Hanamaki and Matsukawa peered over the bed as if admiring an exhibition at the museum. The trees outside only a partial shade as sunlight dappled over Tooru's face. Tooru had apparently fell asleep with the sun in his face.

Placing the milk bread on the bed side table, Hanamaki closed the curtains quietly, not willing to disturb the rare serenity of what they were witnessing. Because anyone who knows him would never associate serenity with Oikawa Tooru. 

"Let's go," Matsukawa said, "Iwaizumi, tell him we came yeah? Its a shame that he's asleep though."

Hajime eyed Tooru, eyes shut too tight, shoulders bunched up too high. "Yeah, what a shame." 

"But there's always a next visit." Hajime smiled, "Just give him a little time."

 

 

 

 

 

_Hajime rushes into the rehabilitation center like his life depended on it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what did Tooru do now? He had to cancel the interview with Tokyo News, where the uproar of Tooru's collapse was what anyone could think of, and everyone wants to be the first to find out the full story._

_His loafers screeched in protest as he stopped abruptly, scrolling through his recent calls to the recent unsaved number which had called him more than ten times._

_He calls it. It connects. "Hello, Iwaizumi-san?"_

_"Hi, yes, Suzuki-san? I'm here. At the counter."_

_"Okay, I'm on my way down."_

_Hajime didn't need to wait long as she arrived quickly, and after a brisk greeting they were on their way to Tooru's room. Haime admired such professionalism and efficiency._

_She stared straight ahead, but Hajime could see how the situation troubled her in her frown and pursed lips._

_"Oikawa-san kept asking for you ever since you left yesterday. And," she side-eyes him, "he wouldn't eat anything until you came."_

_Before she stops, bowing at Hajime. "I apologize for the trouble, and for not being able to fulfill my duties as his nurse."_

_But Hajime was neither surprised nor deterred by Tooru's antics, having experienced and tolerated the full menace Tooru could cause first-handedly for almost twenty years of his life._

_"Please don't apologize Suzuki-san, Tooru is a real handful so I'm really grateful you're taking care of him." When he couldn't._

_Eventually, they reached their destination. Suzuki-san knocked, "Oikawa-san? Iwaizumi-san's here." No reply._

_Suzuki-san looked up at Hajime, uncertain what would be Hajime's course of action with the current situation._

_Trust Tooru to cause problems just because he wanted Hajime here, and ignore him when he was. If it was anyone else, Hajime would have just turned and leave. But because it was Tooru..._

_Hajime grasped the doorknob. Suzuki-san nodded at him, stepping back. "I'll be waiting outside."_

_Hajime nods in acknowledgment, before turning back to the room. "Tooru, I'm coming in."_

_The first thought that came to Hajime's mind was of a raft drifting aimlessly on the sea, with no land in sight for miles to come when he sees Tooru sitting in his bed, the setting sun the orange sea across the floors that separated Hajime from him._

_Hajime walked forward, not too near so that he was steps away from Tooru, but not too far so that he was close enough to the door. The distance between them the uncrossable sea that churns with innumerable and inexplicable emotions._

_Hajime glanced at the armchair at the opposite side of the room. He would have sat down if it wasn't so far from Tooru. They didn't need more distance between them._

_Tooru's eyes never leaves the window open at the side of his bed, but Hajime didn't need to see his expression to know what he was feeling._

_Tooru's voice carries steadily across the distance. "I've played along for three days already." His shoulders shook, "But that's enough. Get me out of here Iwa-chan."_

_Hajime pauses. "You know I can't."_

_"Why?" He whispers, before turning full swing to stare at him, and Hajime was hit by the total brunt of his emotions. "Why?!" he repeats._

_"It was just a faint! Why would you of all people-"_

_"All of us thinks its for the best, including Coach Irihata."_

_Tooru blinks, wetting his lips, as he composed himself to try again. "But I'm fine, Iwa-chan, I'm fine, why would you..."_

_Tooru drops his head down as the sheets beneath him started to darken under his tears._

_"Oh Tooru," Hajime whispered, crossing the distance in a heartbeat to press Tooru against his chest. He prepared himself for Tooru to push him away, but he doesn't._

_"H-How are we to beat Shiratorizawa now, Iwa-chan? When we couldn't before...how could we now?" Hajime's shirt stretches as Tooru's clenches it tight in his fists, as if Hajime was his anchor and he would drown in the murky depths of the sea all around him if Hajime had disappeared from his life._

_And then the room was just a room, no more seas or distance to separate them from the other._

_"Even if you changed everything about yourself, it wouldn't help us win Tooru." He glanced out of the window, at the roads leading back to Tokyo. "We will beat them in the future."_

_He kisses Tooru's tears away, "You just got to give yourself a little time."_

The boy takes an unsteady step out into the open, the first step in many months. The boy hitched in his breath, turns back towards the imposing white structure of the building that has housed him and Hajime's entire being for months on end, as if it was all a delusion, as if one blink and he would return to the dull white room of his imprisonment.

Hajime holds his breath, awaiting the plausibility of it happening. It doesn't. Both he and the boy were still here, here together, out in the open. And for the first time, the boy removes his gaze from the building behind him to the open roads in front of him. His eyes trail their future, unforeseeable, but nonetheless, the tantalizing promise of something better.

The boy looks around, eyes searching. For something, for someone.

They land on Hajime. The boy smiles.

"Iwa-chan," he says.

**Author's Note:**

> this was for the [ hq art au zine](https://twitter.com/hqfanzine?lang=en) that never happened lmao. 
> 
> //cringes at my writing from more than a year ago, but i think this is my most fav fic i ever written haha. i remember crying while writing this lmao im such a sucker for iwaoi
> 
> im on [tumblr ](https://doubletan.tumblr.com/)


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